


Influences

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:37:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has hidden the fact that John has killed to protect him from the world at large twice now. But Mycroft knows, and Mycroft issues an ultimatum and gives Sherlock something to think about: is he being a bad influence on John Watson, now that John is involved with his lifestyle? And if he is, what is he willing to do about it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Influences

**Author's Note:**

> Answering two prompts from the sherlockmas Afterglow Fest: "Story in which Sherlock is worried that he is in some way bad for John" and "The first time that Doctor Watson killed a man and Sherlock concealed that fact from Scotland Yard, Mycroft merely increased his surveillance. The second time, the circumstances merited a more ... intrusive response." Set in between "The Blind Banker" and "The Great Game."

Sherlock knew John shot the cab driver. He’d realized it upon talking to Lestrade after the police had shown up. That was the first time someone had killed a man to keep him safe, or at least that he knew about. Mycroft being Mycroft, there was always the distinct possibility there were more bodies of enemies hiding under rocks or in deep watery graves than he’d care to admit. But as far as he knew, John was the first. He was sure Mycroft knew, because as much as he hated to admit it, Mycroft knew much more than he let on, but he concealed the fact just the same. The second time John killed a man to save him, he also kept that quiet. He said he didn’t know who had fired the killing shot, and for some reason Scotland Yard decided not to investigate further; after all, the victim was an unrepentant serial killer. He was pretty sure Lestrade thought he had shot the man himself. But he didn’t want John facing an inquiry, so he just stayed quiet. Of course, Mycroft knew the truth.

The first time, with the cabbie, Sherlock knew Mycroft had merely increased his surveillance on his brother. It was annoying but effective. The second time, though, Mycroft paid him a visit. He didn’t like dealing with his brother in the best of times, and he certainly didn’t like it when his brother was playing the part of being an overprotective older brother because it always painted Sherlock as an ungrateful twat, and he hated being put in that role. And so now he was sitting in the common room with Mycroft, both of them sipping tea, and he was waiting for Mycroft to get past the banalities and into the real reason for his visit.

Soon he got to the point. “John Watson has killed two men protecting you,” Mycroft said urbanely after he poured himself a second cup of tea.

“Yes, I know,” Sherlock said sourly. “Do you want me to tell him to stop?”

“The thought had crossed my mind, but I doubt he would listen. He’ll protect you, even if it means dying in the process.” Sherlock had been about to take a sip of his tea when Mycroft said that, and he paused in the act. Mycroft glanced at him, then continued. “Have you thought perhaps that your lifestyle, your choices, are a bad influence on him?”

“No,” Sherlock said slowly. “I had not.”

“Perhaps you should think about that, about what kind of life he would have if he hadn’t gotten involved with you. And then you should make a decision, before someone makes that decision for you.”

“What are you planning on doing, Mycroft?” Sherlock asked, quickly lowering his cup back onto the saucer. Tea splashed over the side of the cup since he had done it with such force.

“I am not planning on doing anything. But if it occurs a third time, and you attempt to hide it, I may be forced to involve the authorities.” Mycroft took another sip of his drink. “For the greater good, of course.”

“Of course,” Sherlock said quietly yet sarcastically. “You are not my keeper, Mycroft, and to be honest I think the fact that John would protect me in a more direct fashion to be comforting. At least he’s not slinking around the shadows like you do.”

“Yes, but in the long run, who keeps you safer, the man killing the people directly or the man keeping more men like them from cropping up in your life?” Sherlock blinked at that. “Keep in mind, my dear brother, that I have been protecting you a lot longer than John Watson has been in your life. For all you know, I could have stopped many more people with a vendetta against you.” He finished his tea and stood up. “Keep this conversation in mind next time a life is taken while you’re on a case.” And with that he left.

Sherlock looked at his own tea and then took a sip, thoughts whirring in his head. What if he was bad for John? What if including John in the life that he chose was going to be detrimental for the other man in the long run? Could he be content knowing that John had killed, even if it was killing to protect him? If it happened again, would he attempt to hide it like he had the last two times, or would Mycroft follow through on his threat? He had no doubt Mycroft could be an enormous bastard, but would he take away his brother’s only true friend to keep the public safe? He was still ruminating on those thoughts when he heard the door open and John came in. John shrugged out of his coat and took off his scarf, putting them on the coat rack. Sherlock glanced at him. Could he push this man away to keep him safe?

“Had an interesting day?” John asked when he was finished.

“I had a visit from my brother today,” Sherlock said slowly.

“Oh? Did you punch him in the face yet?” John asked with a grin.

Sherlock shook his head. “Not yet.”

“What did you two talk about?” he asked, going through the day’s mail.

“You.”

“Me?” John asked, stopping what he was doing. “What about me?”

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. “Do you think I’m a bad influence on you?”

“What do you mean, Sherlock?”

“You’ve killed two men protecting me. My choices put you in danger. Do you think I’m a bad influence on you?”

John moved over to his chair and sat down. “Sherlock, to be quite honest, you saved my life. Before I met you, I was depressed. I didn’t care about anything. I was just existing. Meeting you and doing all this has given me purpose. You really did save me. So no, I don’t think you’re a bad influence.”

The knot in Sherlock’s gut unclenched. John didn’t regret things. That was good to hear. “Thank you.”

“For what?” John asked.

“For telling me that. It will just strengthen my resolve.” He nodded towards John. “The next time you kill someone protecting me, though, I can’t cover it up. Not if I don’t want Mycroft to retaliate.”

“Then tell the truth,” John said with a shrug. “It’s nice that you want to protect me, but I’m a grown man. I’m in control of my actions and I’ll take the consequences for them.” He looked over at Sherlock. “So just tell the truth, all right?”

“Fine,” Sherlock said with a nod.

“So, now that we’re past that, anything I need to know before I go out on my date tonight?” John asked.

Sherlock shook his head. “Nothing I can think of.”

“All right,” he replied, standing up. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go get ready.” With that, John began to leave the room.

“John?” Sherlock asked.

John stopped at the door. “Yes?”

“Be careful out there,” he said.

Sherlock got a grin from John in return. “I will.” And then he left, leaving Sherlock to contemplate other things for a while. His world was not about to be flipped upside down, and for that he was grateful.


End file.
